Page 4 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

My phone beeped with the horse neigh sound that meant a text from Tamara. I dug the phone out of the cushions and read the text she’d sent to only me.

Tamara

Probably junk mail. Ignore it.

Junk mail was such a boring theory. I wanted it to be more. Ithadto be more. I was overdue for some excitement.

Me

I think someone is messing with me.

Tamara

I don’t think it’s the girls.

Me

It’s driving me .

Tamara

You’re so impatient.

She was a big proponent of wait-and-see. Me? I got itchy just thinking about having to wait this one out. I wanted to know now.

Tamara

Google the return address.

Smart.

Wait. There was also a phone number on the invoice. I could get answers even faster.

Me

I’ll call them!

Tamara

No! What if it’s a scam? They want you to call them, because it’s some sort of reverse charging system where it’ll cost you a hundred dollars a minute.

Me

It’s a 1-800.

Tamara

It’s got to be a scam—phishing for personal data. They want you to call! Don’t answer anything they ask with a YES or they’ll record you and edit the conversation to make it seem like you agreed to whatever their scam is.

Me

Your mom has made you paranoid. I’m calling.

Mrs. Madden, a total small-town sweetheart of a mom, watched way too many news stories about bad things, and was the number one target for dramatic clickbait headlines. Then she’d call us up and warn us about whatever she’d heard or read about. She used to video-call us, but then she got worried that someone was going to hack our call and use artificial intelligence to create an avatar that mimicked her, and then scam all of her family and friends. She’d even created a secret word, so we’d know if we were talking to the real human version of her or not.

Tamara

I checked maps. Their address doesn’t exist. No 1010B on 10 Avenue! SCAM!

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